by Suzy K Quinn
I told him I hadn’t really enjoyed London since I had Daisy.
Alex said he hated cities too.
I said, ‘But aren’t all your hotels in cities?’
He said, ‘Yes. I like the hotels. Just not the cities.’
Alex asked if I was going inside the handbag shop.
I said, ‘We’re off to Mothercare actually.’ In a silly, high voice.
Jemima said, ‘Oh we’d love to go with you.’ Then she grabbed my hand and said I’d have to show her the way.
Alex walked beside us, hands in his trouser pockets, looking all serious.
When we got to Mothercare, Alex frowned at all the kids bouncing in the cots.
Jemima said, ‘Can I –’
Alex said, ‘No.’
She said, ‘But that little boy –’
He said, ‘He shouldn’t have that on his head AT ALL. If you must go and play, there’s a toy kitchen over there.’
Jemima scampered off and left Alex and I alone.
Daisy was crying a bit, so Alex got her out of the pram.
He said, ‘There’s too much going on in here, isn’t there? Is it all too much?’
Daisy stopped crying and chewed his shirt collar.
I was impressed.
Alex said, ‘I remember what Jemima was like. When she was little. She hated too much stimulation.’ Then he said, ‘I trust Nick Spencer is paying for this shopping trip.’
I said, ‘Why do you always call him by his full name?’
Alex said, ‘To set him apart from the Nicks I actually like.’
Then he asked me who my solicitor was, and I told him it was Ted Grunty.
Alex said, ‘Christ, the man who forged those planning applications?’
I told him that was never proved. Then I told him I’d decided to run the Christmas marathon after all.
Alex asked me how my training was going.
I said slowly.
Alex said, ‘Hopefully you’ll be able to keep up with me.’
Our eyes met, and I felt myself smile.
Then Jemima decided to show us all the things she’d written on a little toy chalkboard.
I ‘oooed’ at her letters.
She said, ‘They’re not letters. They’re words. Look, ‘ECZEMA’. And ‘ARCHITECT’. Are you coming to afternoon tea with us?’
Alex said, ‘Yes she is.’
I tried to protest. I said I didn’t want to interrupt their family time, and anyway I was meeting Laura in a few hours.
But Alex said, ‘Jemima wants you to come and so do I.’ Then he put Daisy in the pram and said, ‘Let me push that behemoth for you.’
And off we went.
We had afternoon tea at the Kensington Dalton Hotel.
The fanciest hotel in all of London.
I’ve never seen anything like it.
I tried not to stare at the gold cherubs and silk walls, but I don’t think I quite managed it because the bellboy said, ‘Do mind the rug, madam.’
Daisy bounced up and down, trying to grab the antique oil paintings.
Jemima was of course a perfect little lady. Gliding through reception to the tearoom, smiling serenely at the waiting staff.
One of Jemima’s school friends was having afternoon tea (how the other half live!) and Jemima wanted to sit with her.
Alex said, ‘Do we know her family?’
Jemima had to give a long, complicated description of her friend’s parents.
I asked Alex why Jemima needed cross-examination to sit with a little girl in a pristine sailor’s dress, eating sandwiches with a knife and fork.
He said, ‘That’s just how we do things in our family.’
We then ended up in the very weird position of talking about Alex’s family and his upbringing.
He’s not half as spoiled as I thought. He had a pretty tough childhood, actually. Boarding school. A lot of studying. No toys unless they were earned. I mean, it’s not as if he went hungry or anything. But it didn’t sound like a lot of fun.
Daisy fell asleep on my lap, thank God.
Alex was very gentlemanly and had the waiter run out to get me a straw for my cup of tea so I didn’t wake her.
And Daisy didn’t wake – not even when I dropped a pistachio macaroon on her head.
When I burned my mouth drinking tea through the straw, Alex said, ‘Perhaps champagne would be better.’ And ordered a bottle.
He knew all the staff by name and stuff about their lives and their families. And he didn’t once seem uncomfortable to be stuck with me. All in all, it was an unexpectedly lovely afternoon.
At one point I said, ‘Your staff in the Bond Street Dalton must get jealous. Because you know everyone’s name here.’
He said he knew the names of his staff in every hotel he owned.
I was a bit blown away by that.
He said, ‘You know your sisters’ names, don’t you? The people working in my hotels are my family too.’
Which I thought was pretty lovely.
We ended up talking about the Dalton New Year’s Ball, and he asked me why I didn’t go last year.
I was a bit taken aback that he’d noticed.
He said, ‘Of course I noticed. I notice you every year. Always have done. Why wouldn’t I?’
I said, ‘We know each other, but it’s not like we’re friends.’
He said, ‘You don’t think we’re friends?’
‘Maybe now,’ I said. ‘But before the training this year … we were just acquaintances weren’t we?’
I didn’t tell Alex that all us girls watched him as teenagers. That we giggled about tall, dark and handsome slightly-grumpy Alex Dalton.
Alex said, ‘I’ve never seen you as just an acquaintance.’
We talked a bit more about the charity balls, and I asked him what the theme would be for this New Year.
He said his mother hadn’t decided yet. But he was sure another humiliating auction would take place.
I blushed bright red.
Did he know I only got old-man bids this year? He wasn’t in the room, but did someone tell him?
Then Alex said, ‘Look, if you’re going up against the Jolly-Piggotts, you really do need a decent solicitor.’
I said that Ted was fine. An old family friend.
Alex said something about misplaced loyalty. Then he said, ‘Doesn’t your daughter deserve the best?’
We looked at Daisy. Sleeping on my chest.
I said that Ted would do his best for us. Better than some super-solicitor we hardly knew. He’d go to the ends of the earth. He’d known me since I was a baby.
Then Alex said I should take Nick for every penny. He’d seen Nick, pre-wedding, in the city – bar-hopping and flirting with women. He said it was disgusting with a baby at home. And he wished he’d told me.
I told him I already knew Nick bar-hopped and flirted with women. I just didn’t know he was sleeping with my bridesmaid.
Then I thought about Nick and Sadie and felt like I was going to be sick.
I must have gone a bit white, because Alex said, ‘Are you cold? We can get the fire lit. Let me take Daisy.’
But I just mumbled something about feeling ill and having a lot on my mind. I honestly thought I was going to throw up. I thanked Alex for a lovely afternoon and ran out like Cinderella at midnight.
He must think I’m such an idiot.
All I could think, wandering around London, was that Nick never loved me. All those years with him and he never even knew my favourite colour.
And yet Alex has noticed every single Dalton ball I’ve ever attended.
Sunday September 27th
Took Laura out for lunch to apologise for standing her up yesterday.
Planned to take her to Jamie’s Italian, but Daisy started howling and WOULD NOT stop. So we ended up at Kentucky Fried Chicken where they have bottle warmers.
As soon as Daisy calmed down, I started blubbing. Going on about how Nick never loved me and I missed w
hat was right in front of my face.
Laura got me a bargain bucket to drown my sorrows.
I gave Daisy a drumstick. Then I panicked, because it was full of salt.
Laura reminded me that Mum gave us KFC when we were babies. And McDonald’s too – there’s a baby picture of me in a Ronald McDonald highchair dipping fries into a strawberry milkshake.
I told Laura about the afternoon tea with Alex. How nice it was, but what a twat I made of myself. Then I asked her how it was going with Zach.
She admitted she hadn’t heard from him in a while. He’s on a skiing trip. But there was some Hello picture of him at a ski lodge party with some girl.
‘It’s probably nothing,’ she said. ‘But, then again …’
We bought a copy of Hello so we could scrutinise the picture.
I had to admit the girl was pretty. But not in Laura’s league.
‘Zach doesn’t care about pretty,’ Laura insisted. ‘He’s not like that.’
After we’d looked at all the arm angles and googled ‘body language’, we decided the picture was perfectly innocent.
‘Just a friend at a party,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ said Laura. ‘But … I still wish I’d never seen that picture.’
Monday September 28th
Mum and Dad went to IKEA today to buy a wardrobe.
They ended up buying half the shop.
Mum bought neon tea towels, a doormat with pink feet on it, hooks shaped like dogs wagging their tails and a load of meatballs for the freezer.
Dad bought drawer tidies, Tupperware and plastic boxes for all his screws.
Mum’s added meatballs to the pub specials menu.
Tuesday September 29th
Mum and Dad have spent all day trying to put together the IKEA wardrobe.
It’s the first time I’ve heard Dad swear in years.
Mum was storming around the place shouting, ‘If I ever see another Allen key, I’m going to shove it up someone’s arse.’
She’s taken meatballs off the pub menu.
Wednesday September 30th
Daisy has started waking up again at night.
I know I should try and ignore her and teach her to settle herself.
But it’s like there are two people in my head, arguing with each other. And the one shouting SHE COULD BE HUNGRY! always wins.
Thursday October 1st
Daisy slept for twelve hours straight!
I woke up at five, worrying that she’d died.
Then I spent the next two hours going back and forth, checking her breathing.
She woke up at seven, all happy and well rested.
I was red-eyed and irritable, just like always.
Saturday October 3rd
Mum and Callum’s birthday today.
Everyone says it’s a coincidence that they were born on the same day, but I think God knows they’re kindred spirits.
Mum celebrated by buying a giant trampoline for the pub garden.
It’s the size of a swimming pool and takes Callum a full minute to bounce from one side to the other.
I’m a bit worried Callum might break a limb. I read somewhere that trampolines cause lots of childhood accidents these days. And Callum is one of those kids who leaps first and looks later.
I bought Mum a yard of Cadbury’s Whole Nut as her birthday present.
I used to buy her expensive bath products and lovely things for the home. But she always gives them straight to charity.
Chocolate is the only thing I can guarantee she’ll be delighted by every time.
Gave Callum school things – pencil case, pencils etc. But he looked a bit disappointed, so I think next year I’ll buy him a violent computer game.
Sunday October 4th
Mum has broken her wrist on the trampoline.
Doctor Slaughter came round on an emergency visit. He looked in the fridge and told Mum off for having a salad drawer full of fun-size chocolate. Then he told her she’d have to go to A&E and wait in line.
Mum said she and Dad pay five times more taxes than most people AND have private healthcare, so she shouldn’t have to wait.
Dr Slaughter said private health insurance didn’t cover stupidity.
Tuesday October 6th
I will never understand Daisy’s eating habits.
The only thing she’ll eat off a spoon is bananas, porridge and angel delight (that last one is Mum’s fault).
And yet she roams around the house eating leaves, stones, old dried-up hard food and bits of carpet fluff. She even tries to grab her nappy and eat it while I’m changing her.
How did human beings ever evolve from caves?
Wednesday October 7th
9am
I’ve lost four more pounds! WOOOOOOO!
I’m going to celebrate with an Options Hot Chocolate drink, exotic mint flavour.
10am
Exotic mint flavour tastes like muddy toothpaste. Even Daisy didn’t like it. She made a face and spat it down her little ballerina outfit.
4pm
Just got back from ‘Little Tiddles Play Time’ at the village hall.
Daisy tried to eat the big crinkly blanket all the babies were supposed to lay on.
Then, while I was changing her, she grabbed the nappy and hurled it across the room.
I used two packs of wet wipes to clean up, saying ‘sorry, sorry’ the whole time.
The woman who ran the group said, ‘It’s fine.’ But I could tell she was annoyed. She was muttering about the big crinkly blanket being dry clean only.
Thursday October 8th
Ran all the way around the village three times today.
And then I ran along the trail into the woods, past the river and all the birds and boats.
I kept thinking about Alex – wondering if I’d bump into him.
But I didn’t see him today.
I bet he’ll make a really good time in the marathon.
Me – I just want to finish. But the more I run, the more I’m thinking … maybe I will finish. Maybe I will.
It’s definitely getting harder as the weather gets colder, though. The air is really starting to hurt my chest.
Friday October 9th
A funny day today. Alex Dalton’s solicitor called.
His name is Jeremy Samuels. He’s one of those forthright, shouty men who make you hold the phone a little bit away from your ear.
‘Alex said I should put my foot down with you,’ he shouted. ‘He said you were being very silly and saying you wanted to use some local fellow. But he’s decided it’s me you should be using, and he will foot the bill. Who is this local fellow, anyway?’
I told him it was Ted Grunty.
He said, ‘Good Lord! The chap who forged all those signatures?’
Then he said, ‘I’ll have a word with Ted. He’ll understand. All’s fair in love and law. Then we’ll go about getting you a settlement. Alex says you’re a lovely girl – you deserve a decent amount.’
A lovely girl!
Did Alex really say that about me?
Amazing!
Saturday October 10th
Althea and I met at the pottery café again today.
We probably should have learned our lesson from last time. Wolfgang and breakable things don’t mix.
Within three minutes, he’d smashed a plate with baby handprints on it and a soup mug that said ‘I love you Daddy’.
When everyone turned to stare, Althea snapped, ‘He’s just expressing himself. Why can’t you give him freedom to be himself too? I’ll pay for the fucking breakages.’
Althea never worries about money. Wolfgang’s dad is a famous keyboard player and earns loads in royalties. Which means Althea earns loads in maintenance.
They have a very open-minded relationship, are still legally married and still sleep together sometimes.
I told Althea about the Jeremy Samuels’s phone call.
She said, ‘Fucking hell. That’s a big deal. Why would Alex
Dalton go and do something like that?’
I told her I didn’t know, but that Alex had said something about feeling responsible. Because he’d seen Nick flirting and bar-hopping.
Althea said, ‘Bollocks. It’s because he fancies you.’
I said, ‘Alex Dalton? I don’t think so.’
But then Althea said that Alex was always watching me.
I told her that glaring and watching weren’t the same thing.
Monday October 12th
10am
Supermarket shopping.
Daisy hates my cooking these days. She loves ready-made vegetable pouch meals, but I just feel like she should be eating something homemade.
Have found a website showing lots of delicious baby recipes, and am determined to cook something she likes.
11am
Sometimes I miss London.
Bloody village co-op supermarket doesn’t sell anything.
It had sold out of all fresh vegetables (except a few dirty carrots) and didn’t stock tofu or lentils.
It had a massive range of Angel Delight (in flavours I never even heard of. Mint? Treacle?), Dream Topping and basically everything you need to make a trifle. It even sold ready-made trifles in the fridge section. But I didn’t want trifle. I wanted healthy baby food.
I asked Pauline at the checkout when there’d be any fresh veg coming in.
She said, ‘Oh Lord knows. I always shop at Tesco.’
2pm
Went to Tesco.
Got ingredients.
Cooked and pureed Lentil Savoury Bake for Daisy’s tea.
I made enough for the whole week and froze it in those little weaning pots.
7pm
Daisy wouldn’t eat the Lentil Savoury. She spat it out then made retching noises at the spoon.
Mum tried to feed her too.
She said, ‘Open up, you fussy monkey. Your mum’s spent all day cooking this healthy crap.’
When Daisy refused, Mum said, ‘Well I can’t say I blame her. It looks like something you’d find in her nappy. Why don’t you give her one of those pouch meals?’
I finally cracked and gave Daisy a pouch of Banana Breakfast.
She ate the whole lot in under a minute, making smacking noises and sucking hopefully at the empty packet.
